Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“But no one else knows,” I observed.
Cam shook his head.
“Fuck, Cam,” I said as I wrapped my arms around him and just held onto him. He nuzzled my neck and then leaned heavily against me.
“Cam, let’s lie down again for a bit, okay? Your arm must be hurting.”
When he didn’t answer right away, I knew I was right.
He put an arm around me and said, “I’ve gotta prove I can keep up with you, remember?”
I chuckled. “Don’t you have any little blue pills for that?”
He pinched my ass, causing me to yelp. Then I was flat on my back and his mouth was moving over mine. I almost got the impression he was testing me… like he wanted to make sure I wasn’t disgusted by what he’d told me… that I’d meant what I’d said about not believing there was even a possibility he’d done what he’d been accused of.
I kissed him back and gave my body completely over to him, but at a certain point he seemed to realize I wasn’t going anywhere and he softened his touch. His mouth skimmed my neck and drifted down my chest. While what we’d done earlier in the evening and in my studio had been frantic and rushed, this was the exact opposite. Cam took his time tasting every part of me. But it wasn’t just his mouth that cherished me. He explored my skin with his fingers, he linked our hands, he whispered things to me about how good I felt and how perfectly we fit together… soft kisses were placed on my closed eyelids, my temple, my nose, my chin, everywhere but my mouth. It was a full-on sensual assault and he hadn’t even touched me below my belly button yet.
“Cam,” I ground out when it seemed like he was in no hurry whatsoever to get to the next part. “You proved your point,” I said grumpily.
Cam chuckled and pressed one light kiss after another against my mouth.
“Ford,” he finally said as he slid his body down mine, kissing my torso and then my belly as he went. I hadn’t zipped my pants or put my underwear back on after washing myself with the washcloth, so when he reached my cock, the head was already peeking through the material of my jeans.
“Yeah?”
I nearly came off the bed when he pulled my hard dick free of my pants. I bucked up into his touch. His mouth caressed my belly button and when he next spoke, his warm breath tickled the wiry hair of my groin.
“When I’m done with you, you’re the one who’s going to need the little blue pills.”
“Promises, prom—”
That was all I managed to get out because he chose that moment to close his mouth over the head of my dick and suck me to the back of his throat. I shouted in both surprise and pleasure and jackknifed up to a sitting position as Cam began bobbing his head up and down my shaft.
“Oh God, fuck, fuck, fuck!” I cried as the orgasm raced up my spine and my balls felt like they were going to explode. I shoved my cock into Cam’s mouth and held him by the back of the head as I emptied myself down his throat. When he’d wrung every last drop of cum from my body, I fell back onto the bed. His mouth found mine and I gasped when some of my own juices dripped over my tongue. The salty, bitter taste was odd at first, but when Cam’s tongue stroked over mine, I eagerly swallowed every drop of my own cum that he fed me.
I felt boneless as he began gently kissing me again and it wasn’t until my cock started trying to respond to his roaming hands that I realized what he was up to.
And he was absolutely right… at this rate I was going to be the one who needed a little blue pill to keep up with him… or ten.
Chapter Nineteen
Cam
The scene I walked in on was almost perfectly reminiscent of the night I’d found Ford at his studio, the only difference being that instead of throwing splashes of vibrant colors onto his own wall, he was steadfastly adding a coat of beige paint to my wall… well, the wall of one of my guest rooms.
He was once again wearing just his jeans and while his moves weren’t frantic this time, he seemed overly focused on the up and down strokes that distributed the boring paint evenly on the smooth surface. Somehow, seeing him like that, just painting and nothing more, bothered me. It was too generic for someone like him.
While he didn’t seem overly anxious, the fact that he was working instead of sleeping peacefully at my side at three in the morning was proof that something was bothering him. I couldn’t help but wonder what part of the night was the cause.